Author: Anne (Grace is my Superhero)

This picture was taken in December of 2016.

That is when I thought that a master bedroom makeover was imminent. We had moved into our lovely older home in October of 2007. We had 6 children, the youngest being 6 weeks old. We just put together our master bedroom with whatever we had. It definitely wasn’t the decor that I would have chosen. It really wasn’t even a master bedroom. It was one of the smaller rooms in the house, but we chose it because it had a balcony. We didn’t want any of the children to accidentally get out onto the balcony…EVER!

I would day dream about how we would make our room a peaceful oasis. It wouldn’t cost very much money, and it would be so much fun. Month after month, year after year, other things would take up our time, money, and creative energy. We had two more baby boys, both born in this bedroom. We shared the small space with a collection of bassinets and cribs.

In 2015 we had a baby girl. Eventually she moved out of our room and into a room with her brothers. Our master bedroom was cribless! I began to dream of redecorating again. By December of 2016, we thought we were ready! The light blue paint had almost faded to grey, and it was peeling off the walls. Upon closer inspection, Chris noticed that there was quite a bit of water damage on one of the walls. The wall had an outside wall on the other side. It turns out the the chimney was leaking water into our house and we needed to get a chimney liner.

A Chimney liner: the most unsatisfying home improvement expense ever!!!

I had to wait a bit longer for my master bedroom makeover. Slowly over the next two years we found other items to put into our room like a beautiful dresser from Craigslist. My daughter made me gorgeous canvases from photos taken on her trip to Australia.

I was able to get some new bedspreads. A lighter one for the summer months and a duvet cover for our down comforter. Chris likes our room as frigid as possible, but I don’t mind in the winter, as long as I am snuggled under the down comforter.

I also brought a small love seat into our room. Friends of ours gave it to us when they were moving our of state. (Thank you Wander family!) It had been in the boys room, in the loft and then finally in the basement. I thought it was a goner when the furnace pipes started spurting water everywhere and it got completely soaked. Yet it dried out and still had the pleasant smell of dill emanating from it. I think it is a miracle love seat, perfect for quiet times with Jesus and nursing times with babies. All it needed was a blue slip cover!

In 2018 we had another baby girl. There was another bassinet in our room, but it was a joy! Chris and I needed a new mattress badly. We found ourselves rolling into the center of the bed and waking up terribly sore. Finally by February of 2019 we were able to trade in our 22 year mattress for a new king-sized one.

A new King-Sized Mattress: one of the most satisfying home improvement expenses ever!

Chris decided that he couldn’t put a new bed into our room with the awful paint. So he asked me to pick a paint color and soon, “Sunny Veranda” was gracing our walls.

A few months later Chris took an original door from our garage and crafted a headboard for me.

I love it more than any headboard I have ever seen!

I feel like I have an official bedroom now!

I wanted to decorate our room in a beach theme because God had spoken to me so clearly about the Sky and the Ocean before, during, and after our 21st honeymoon at the beach. The beach is where I am reminded to surrender to the God of the wind and waves so He can carry me.

There are pictures from Areli’s trip to Australia,

Areli’s trip to Cyprus,

and our trip to Ocean City Maryland.

I love each little detail because it means something to me. This old box came with our house and is a perfect place for my books. Now I just need to find one for Chris’ side of the bed.

The shells belong to Areli, which I gave to her, which my Grammy gave to me, which Grammy got when her mom and step-dad lived in Florida.

Whenever I lay in this bed and look up at the lovely white ceiling fan, I feel like I am on vacation. I am surrounded by sunny weather and beaches.

What could be more relaxing than that!

And God is telling me to dream again.

To look into my future with His vision and see the endless possibilities.

To tell disappointment that “NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE WITH GOD!”

To hold my dreams dearly but not tightly.

To dream but not make dreams my master.

To dream while praising the Author of my dreams.

What better place to do all of those things than in my new Master Bedroom?!

Thank you Chris for making my oasis possible! I am looking forward to relaxing at the beach with you!

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This is happening. My firstborn is leaving home. It isn’t her first adventure, but it is her longest so far. Seeking God and helping others is her mission, taking photos along the way.

How can I say goodbye to my right arm, the joy of my heart, and my best girlfriend? I fear I will be overcome with testosterone and daily tasks without her.

But I know that it is her time to fly.

God’s timing is perfect, and His grace is sufficient for me. She graduated two years ago, an amazing student. She stayed to save money and help me through my hardest pregnancy and recovery yet.

She is
a second mother to the others. She
diapered them, fed them, washed them, dressed them, educated them, had fun with
them, and loved them. They are the
children they are today because of her.
I am a sane and happy mother of 10 because of her. She had a job and was
a leader at youth group. Many have been
blessed by her!

“What
will we ever do without her?” my heart
keeps asking. “How will I bare the emptiness?”

The truth is, we are not becoming smaller as a family, we are expanding.

We are not losing Areli, we are going to be seeing a whole new world through her eyes. Her room won’t be empty! Two little girls will being filling the space with feminine joy and enthusiasm soon. And what a good change it will be. Four year old Annalise is still in a crib in her brother’s room. 10 month old Aria will be a wonderful roommate now that she sleeps like an angel.

All the children will take a step up and grow in maturity. They will learn new skills and take on new jobs.

Areli will be going to the same missionary school that I attended just a brief 25 years ago.

25 means double grace, and there is double grace on her life.

To live…to love…to learn…to grow…to embrace each moment! Our hearts are going with her, and our prayers are surrounding her.

One of her walls looked awfully bare. So I pinned up some photos of Areli and the family. Aria will be able to lay on her new changing table and see that beautiful smile everyday.

We are so proud of you Areli! It won’t be long until we are all together again.

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Sometimes living in this world overwhelms me. One of those times happened recently. Concerns and fears were pressing in on me, and I was trying to hide. I realized that I had spent most of my life avoiding any person or situation that I thought would hurt me. In my mind’s eye, I could see myself. I was a pitiful, little field mouse. I was running from one hiding spot to another, not wanting to be in the open field. I knew that if I ventured there, the powerful birds of prey would pick me off. I felt like a victim, too small to fight back, too lowly to be confident. I felt ashamed of all that I was not. The snakes of shame were hissing reminders of what I was – a pesky, dirty, little rodent.

Then I felt the slightest breeze of the Spirit. The picture in my mind flipped. I rose from the ground and began to ride the wind. I was an eagle.

I WAS THE BIRD OF PREY.

I saw that pesky vermin running on the ground.

THAT WAS MY ENEMY.

The enemy was so small, yet I could spot him from a mile away. I could easily hunt him and swoop down to finish him off. And all the shame? Those filthy snakes of shame? Those were my food!

The Hunted had become
the Hunter!

How glorious it felt to fly above the ground! How freeing and beautiful it was to be who God had made me to be! How wonderful to not be afraid! Then I remembered a passage of the book I had been reading by Rick Joyner, “The Valley.” In this prophetic allegory, a group of sojourners were making their way to the Mountain of God. They had to pass through the Valley of the Shadow of Death in order to get there. Elijah had come to give them guidance.

“You
do not defeat an enemy by just getting past him. You defeat fear by growing in faith. You defeat despair by growing in hope. You defeat death by growing in life. True life is only lived by those who no
longer live for themselves, but for The King, and do all things for His sake
and for those He gave His life for.

“This valley is here to help you
find true life…but to find that path, your goal must be greater than getting
through the valley. You must resolve to seek out and destroy the enemies that are in it,”
Elijah continued…

Finally Charles spoke up:

“This would be a radical change
of not just our strategy, but my understanding of our purpose. So the
path of life is found by seeking the enemy?
And then to be on the offensive and attacking? I am sure most of us were thinking we needed
to do all we could to avoid the enemy, to just get through it. I thought finding the path of life was done
by seeking the path of life, not fighting.”

“To do His will is the path of
life for everyone. This is His will for
you here. This valley has a high
purpose, and part of it is to prepare you for the rest of your journey to the
mountain, and then to be of use to The King in the great battle to come. You
must become true warriors, and no true warriors seeks to avoid the enemy…

“In this valley lie your
greatest fears. They are your greatest
threats and your greatest challenges.
That gives the potential to be the place of your greatest victories…

“The Lord created this valley,
but men made it the Valley of the Shadow of Death. So He uses it to seal in His people who they
are called to be – warriors that do not kill, but impart life. They do not
wound, but heal. They do not oppress,
but set captives free.”

The enemies that I am to
hunt and destroy are fear, doubt, and shame (just to name a few) in myself and
others. But when I flap my great wings,
I will bring the wind of healing and refreshing to people. People are not my enemies.

A few
days later I randomly opened my Bible and started reading Esther 8. Again I found an example of divine reversal.

The Hunted becomes
the Hunter!

The King had given Haman permission
to draft a law that authorized the enemies of the Jews to rise up and kill
them. The King didn’t realize that his
lovely queen was a Jew. Her people were
facing utter annihilation. The queen
went to the king and in one moment, with one decision of the king, the entire
picture flipped. He allowed Mordechai to
draft a law that permitted the Jews to strike back. Fear of the Jews fell on all the other people. Just the day before Esther was praying for
the courage to reveal that she was a Jew.
But in that day:

“In every province and
in every city to which the edict of the king came, there was joy and gladness
among the Jews, with feasting and celebrating. And many people of other
nationalities became Jews because fear of the Jews had seized them.” (Esther
8:17)

Esther was bold, and she and
her people fasted and prayed. But it was
God who gave them victory over their enemies.
I went back to reading Psalm 18.
I had been reading it for a few weeks and I just wasn’t getting it. Why did I keep returning to it? What did God
want to tell me? Finally it became
clear. God was taking me from being the
prey to being the predator.

The Hunted becomes
the Hunter!

34 He trains my hands for battle;
my arms can bend a bow of bronze.35 You make your saving help my shield,
and your right hand sustains me;
your help has made me great.36 You provide a broad path for my feet,
so that my ankles do not give way.

37 I pursued my enemies and overtook them;
I did not turn back till they were destroyed.38 I crushed them so that they could not rise;
they fell beneath my feet.39 You armed me with strength for battle;
you humbled my adversaries before me.40 You made my enemies turn their backs in flight,
and I destroyed my foes. (NIV)

As I
was pondering all these things in my heart during the next week, I encountered
this scripture on Facebook and then Pandora.

Psalm 2 GOD’S WORD Translation (GW)

1 Why do the nations gather together?
Why do their people devise useless plots?2 Kings take their stands.
Rulers make plans together
against the Lord and
against his Messiah by saying,3 “Let’s
break apart their chains
and
shake off their ropes.”

4 The one enthroned in heaven laughs.
The Lord makes fun of them.

As soon as I picture God up on His throne, laughing at my enemies, I am up there in the sky with Him. I can see how small and weak the enemy is compared to my God. I can see the joy on His face, the fire in His eyes. He isn’t worried. Not about the mice or the snakes. Not about me either. He is laughing because He knows all that there is to know. He sees all that can be seen.

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It was 7pm and dinner was still not ready! I was working in the hot kitchen as the children were running all over the house and yard.

“This just does not work!” I lamented to Areli, my oldest daughter. “It is simply too late to be eating supper.”

How did it get so late, and why was I so unprepared today?

“It is alright, Mommy” she said sweetly as she helped.

I was putting the finishing touches on chicken chili (why did I decide to make soup on such a hot day?) when I heard a voice behind me.

“Mom! Mom!”

I turned around and to see a face I hadn’t seen in four months. The grown-up, handsome face of my oldest son, Cole. It took a few seconds to register in my brain. Then I rushed to hug him, and hugged him, and hugged him, and hugged him some more.

He had just graduated from his Marine MOS training school that morning. We had all texted him congratulations, and his only reply was that he was off to his next duty station. He had told us earlier in the month that he didn’t have enough time to come see us, and that it could be quite a while before he did. Little did we know that he had bought a car and had gotten enough leave to drive home. Areli knew all about it and had been in communication with him the entire time. My heart was so happy, so thrilled, so blessed that I couldn’t put my emotions into words. Suddenly I was thankful that dinner was so late and I simply said.

“Cole, you are just in time for supper!”

That Saturday we decided to take the whole family to Little Buffalo for a picnic. We had many happy memories of day trips and camping trips there, and it was a beautiful day! As we started the journey in our 12 passenger van, my heart was overflowing. Our van was full, and I was so thankful that all 12 members of our family were together again. I sent up a little prayer.

“I would really love to see an eagle today since we are all together and Cole is here, since Cole is an eagle too.”

About five minutes pasted. We drove across the Susquehanna River and there it was. A big black bird. Flying across the road right in front of us. It had a white head!

It was a bald eagle!

“There is an eagle!” I screamed 5 times as I pointed frantically. Most of the children saw it before it flew out of sight. Cole didn’t spot it, and he started laughing at me. The other children looked at me strangely and someone said, “Mom, I don’t think I have ever seen you so excited!”

“I was definitely more excited to see Cole when he came home…but you guys don’t understand! I just prayed and asked God to see an eagle today. Literally 5 minutes ago I asked Him, and there was an eagle!”

Chris had just been telling me how he had to drive this route many days to deliver packages. It was a lovely drive. But he had never seen an eagle before. The rest of the day I spend in gratitude and wonderment. Why would God so quickly answer my frivolous little prayer? What had I done to deserve to be surrounded by such beautiful and handsome faces?

These people made up my whole world, all my hopes and dreams. They are large portions of my heart walking around outside of my body.

They are all so precious, so special, and so important to me. They were all here together on this perfect day. Finally we had to head home, clean up and make supper. The perfect day was fading into twilight, and I wanted to hold on to it.

Cole would be leaving for his first duty station soon. Would our entire family ever be in our van together again? I began to worry. It is easy for a mother to worry. So many details for each child. So many hurdles stand between them and accomplishing their destinies. Sometimes one of those hurdles is me! (Did I check all their school papers? Did I look that child in the eyes today and see his heart? Will this one overcome my bad parenting techniques in the past?) A hundred fears began to pop up their ugly heads, and I began to play whack-a-mole with them in my mind. Not a fun game because they just keep popping back up again.

Finally I remembered that God had just shown me an eagle.

He had done that twice before, and both times He had used the eagle sighting to tell me something very important. The first time was in response to a very specific prayer of mine. He showed me that I do hear His voice, He does hear my voice, and that He created me to be a spiritual eagle. (Details in “A Hawk, A Vulture,and an Eagle” Part 1 and Part 2.)

So don’t lose your confidence. It will bring you a great reward. You need endurance so that after you have done what God wants you to do, you can receive what he has promised.

“Yet, the one who is coming will come soon. He will not delay.

The person who has God’s approval will live by faith. But if he turns back, I will not be pleased with him.”

We don’t belong with those who turn back and are destroyed. Instead, we belong with those who have faith and are saved.

Hebrews 10:35-39 (God’s Word)

It was clear that these fears had no place in my life.

God loved me, He was holding my husband and my children in His hands, and had given me the faith I needed to stand firm with confidence. Then I was reminded of something He had been showing me a few weeks ago. Frankly I had kinda forgotten about it, because it was just too hard to wrap my brain around, so against my normal way of living. However, this third eagle sighting had convinced me that this was truly a message from God that I had to believe and attempt to live.

It is called, “The Hunted becomes the Hunter.”

To be continued….

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Last year Ashlyn had a Posterior Medial Release done on her left foot and a Triple Arthrodesis on her right foot at Hershey Medical Center. This was to correct a progressive club foot deformity that wasn’t present when she was a baby but by age 13 had taken her ability to walk. I wrote about all the details in, “Prayer Warriors Needed”. Thank you to everyone who prayed for her!!! Dr. Sorenson was happy with the results.

He had originally said she would be in the hospital for 3 days post-op. I was prepared to stay with her and somehow position my very pregnant self on a reclining chair for three torturous nights.

Ashlyn was doing so well after the surgery that they allowed her to go home the SAME DAY! What a relief! With some strong pain meds, she slept fairly well. The biggest hassle was that she was supposed to sleep on her back with her feet elevated. She had never slept on her back in her life, and she was very grumpy about it. Finally after several days, I called the doctor, and he said it would be fine for her to sleep on her stomach with her knees bent and feet up on pillows.

AHHHH!! Peaceful nights once again. She did wonderful during the day resting on the love seat.

It was a little difficult for her to crawl around the house and use the toilet, but she did it with help from older siblings. She healed quickly and her pain was not too bad. We stopped using the medication before the prescription ran out. The surgery and recovery were much easier than I had anticipated. Her teachers at school gladly worked around her casts.

Right before school let out she graduated to big black boots. She still wasn’t weight bearing, but was healing nicely.

Finally in August she was fitted for new orthotic braces that would allow her to walk. Slowly but surely she began to stand and walk again! Now she walks at school with a walker all the time, and walks at home on her walking track.

She grew a lot in the year that she couldn’t walk. Her scoliosis has increased to a 70% curvature which is very significant. She is no longer able to totally straighten up, which makes walking hard. Also her knees buckle inward.

She has also been riding her bike with a little help. When she first received the bike some 4 or 5 years ago, she was terrified of it and would scream through most of her ride. Now she loves it and asks to ride often!

Her feet look much better than they did before. As you can see, they still do not rest flat on the floor.

BEFORE AFTER

Before

After

Before

After

Now she can stand without braces which she could not do before the surgery.

At least now she can fit into braces and normal shoes. Big sister Areli got Ashlyn a pair of Nike wide Fly Ease sneakers that open with a zipper. The easiest and nicest shoes she has ever had!

I noticed after the surgery that Ashlyn’s toe next to her pinky toe on each foot was slightly shorter than it was before. In fact, the toe on her left foot was drastically shorter. On her follow up appointment I talked to the doctor about it. Unfortunately, our beloved Dr. Sorenson had moved to Texas. Another doctor took over for him. This doctor had never seen Ashlyn before. When I told him about her toe, he took a glance at it and said, “Oh yes, that it called ‘such-and-such long technical-term’ and she has had that since birth.”

“It is a lot shorter than it used to be,” I tried to explain.

“Oh no it isn’t, you just didn’t notice it before.” he promptly replied.

Well, my trust in this new doctor just plummeted to zero, and I thanked God that we had done this important surgery before Dr. Sorenson had made his move!

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My husband, Chris, and I were sitting at the dining room table as night was falling. We were having dinner with most of our ten children. The relative calm was interrupted when our middle three boys came bursting into the house with the delicacy of a herd of elephants. They had been at the park and were returning home late. The chilly November air usually reminded them to return home much sooner than this.

After much banging, clanging, and slamming of doors, the three of them stood before us. Chai, age 13, was tall and muscular. Cooper, 11, and Calvin, 9, were often mistaken for twins because they were so close in height and both wore glasses. The resemblance ended there, however. Cooper had dark hair and was very passionate. Calvin, with his light hair and generous sprinkling of freckles, had a milder personality.

“Did you guys have fun?” Chris asked.

“Not really,” Calvin answered.

“Then why did you stay so long?” I asked.

Cooper, the natural comedian and storyteller began, “Well, we got the kickball stuck up in a tree.”

Cooper went on to recount the story of a very tricky, sticky kickball game. Chai and Calvin chimed in with extra details now and then.

The boys had walked to the charming neighborhood elementary school just a block from our home. There they met many of the neighborhood children and had decided to play kickball. All was fine until Isaiah made one powerful kick that landed the kickball in a tree.

No problem. Isaiah would simply launch his basketball and dislodge the kickball so they could get back to playing. Except it turned out to be one sticky kickball that had perfectly wedged itself in between three branches. After several failed attempts, the basketball got stuck in the tree too!

No big deal. Cameron had his basketball. While Cameron threw his ball again and again, trying to hit one of the wedged balls, Jacob decided to climb the fence to see if he could reach the tree. He was unable to get close enough, but he did get hit in the back by a wayward basketball. Unfortunately, Cameron fared no better than Isaiah, and his ball found a permanent perch in the tree as well.

No worries. Someone offered their football. This would surely work. But alas! It had the same fate as all the other balls.

Now things were starting to look grim. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Cooper took off both of his shoes. Maxwell took one of the sacrificial shoes and with strength and accuracy aimed at the kickball. The shoe missed its intended target and landed right on a branch. Cameron tried with the other shoe with the same result. At this point Cooper was reprimanding them with rather high-pitched screams.

Chai and Maxwell decided that they needed backup. They walked back to our garage in search of more balls to throw. All they could find were four deflated basketballs, but that was better than nothing. While they were gone, Cooper’s feet were getting very cold. He managed to fit one of his gloves onto one of his feet.

Just then Cooper noticed the School Principal, Mr. Stewart, walking to his car after a long day of work. Cooper ran up to him and asked, “Is Mr. Dan [the janitor] still here? Can he help us get our balls out of the tree?”

Mr. Stewart glanced down and noticed Cooper’s feet.

“What happened?” he asked with a funny look on his face.

“I got my shoes stuck in the tree.” Cooper replied.

I am not sure what thoughts were going through the mind of the kind and wise Principal, but he simply replied, “We will have to get them down tomorrow,” and continued walking to his car.

To Cooper, this was not an acceptable answer. So what brilliant solution did Cooper devise with the help of his younger brother? To throw this brother’s brand new shoes up into the tree, of course! When both of those got absorbed into The Tree, Calvin resorted to running across the street in his stocking feet to enlist the help of a neighbor friend. This friend was not home, so it was back to square one.

Janice, our energetic and joyful neighbor, had walked to the park with her young grand-daughter. She had been watching this entire drama unfold and found it quite amusing. She took out her phone and was documenting the event with photos. Her grand-daughter took on the role of cheerleader and kept saying in her cute, little girl voice, “You almost got it! You almost got it down!”

Chai and Maxwell returned with fresh ammunition and the tree received further battering by the four flat balls. The tree proved to be a worthy adversary and claimed all but one of those balls. Thankfully, one of Calvin’s shoes was dislodged, so he returned it to one of his very cold feet.

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The prince was kneeling before his father, the king. This was a good and wise king. His kingdom was vast and his subjects were too numerous to count. His dominion was full of prosperity and peace.

“How much like me this son of mine is,” the king thought to himself. “He has grown into such a fine young man. He will be wanting to take a bride soon.”

“Father,” the young prince began as though he had read his fathers thoughts, “I have found my true love. I have come to ask your permission to pursue her.”

“Very good my son! Who is she?” the king answered with a hearty smile.

“Her name is Marie.”

“Marie,” the king’s smile faded. “Her name means ‘bitterness’, and it describes her well. She lives outside of the boarder of this land, in our enemy’s territory. Her life has been hard, and I fear that there is very little beauty or joy left in her, even though she is still young.”

“This I know, father. I met her once on my way to the Outer Lands. She was rude to me. She was dirty and dressed in rags. Yet there was something about her that has captivated me. I feel that there is a treasure beneath the filth. Every night I have dreamt of her, and I cannot forget the haunted look in her eyes. Perhaps my love could banish that emptiness and transform her from ‘Bitterness’ into ‘Full of Grace’.

“Son, consider your decision well. Do you truly think that Marie will be a princess befitting our glorious kingdom? Will she make a fine queen someday, able to rule at your side?” the king questioned.

“I know that my choice seems irrational, even reckless. Presently she would make a horrible queen. But I love her, Father, with everything in me. I love her! I know that I can save her from her life of misery and her bitterness. Please let me try.” The prince closed his eyes and bowed his head, awaiting an answer.

The king’s deep voice quavered with emotion, “Son, I am so very proud of you.”

The prince lifted his head suddenly. He searched his father’s eyes, the eyes that always seemed to hold the answers. The king went on.

“You see, Marie was born in this Kingdom and royal blood flows through her veins. She was meant to be your betrothed. I knew that she could become a woman worthy of you, my noble son.”

“What happened to her?” the prince asked with a new passion in his eyes.

“She was kidnapped at a very young age and carried away as a slave. She has lived in the enemy’s land, misused and deceived for all of her life. She may be saved, but there is no guarantee. She does not recognize her dishonorable condition, because she has never known the beauty of our kingdom. She may become offended by your purest intentions. ”

The words of the king seemed to ignite a fire in the already love-struck heart of the prince.

“I must go to her! Father, I must show her that she is loved. That she is worthy. That she is destined to be a queen! Please Father, let me go into the enemy’s territory.”

“You must understand, son, that your quest is noble and born out of true love. But you will suffer. You will suffer all that Marie has suffered…and much more.”

“I know,” the royal son replied in a passionate whisper, “Somehow I have always known. But my suffering is a small price to pay for Marie…for my love. To live here in the glory and abundance of our kingdom without her would cause me greater suffering.”

The prince paused as if the very thought of a life without his love was too terrible to express. He stood to his feet and raised his voice, “I am ready, Father. I must go to her!”

The king stood as well and enveloped his son in a strong embrace.

“You are right. You ARE ready. Marie IS worth the price. I will miss having you here by my side, but I am confident in the future. A future where both you and Marie are reigning with me. This quest is your destiny.”

The prince thought he saw a tear roll down the strong cheek. The King continued in a whisper now.

“This quest…it will cost you everything.”

As I watched this scene unfold on the stage of my mind, I knew that my assumptions were changing.

My paradigm was shifting.

My world was transforming.

This prince wasn’t afraid or reluctant. He was confident and bold. He was longing to go into hostile territory. Like a courageous warrior, he was willing to suffer and to die for the object of his love.

This prince was Jesus.

This Marie was me.

Photo by Kenny Luo on Unsplash

I was the prize that fueled His courage.

I was the treasure that energized His passion.

I was the pearl of great price that He sold everything He had to obtain.

He pursued me like a man pursues His bride. And He found me. He saved me. He turned me into “Full of Grace.”

He is still wooing me. He is still fighting battles for me. I am not yet a queen worthy of His great Kingdom. He is relentlessly pursuing me until I truly know who I am and whose I am. I feel Him teaching me His ways day by day. I feel His patience and His passion. I feel His delight and His desire.

He is pursuing each and every one of us, but only a few of us are aware. The rest go about their lives oblivious of the glorious kingdom for which they were born, the love that chases them.

Men and women all through the ages have encountered this love-sick warrior prince. Sometimes they caught just a glimmer of His smile, just a glimpse of His fiery eyes. Other times they have been washed by His love, wave after relentless wave until they were happily drowning in it.

Some have written about it. One such man is Cory Asbury. I found in the words of his song “Reckless Love” a confirmation of my own experience.

When I was Your foe, still Your love fought for me

You have been so, so good to me

When I felt no worth, You paid it all for me

You have been so, so kind to me

And oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God

Oh, it chases me down, fights ’til I’m found, leaves the ninety-nine

And I couldn’t earn it, and I don’t deserve it, still, You give Yourself away

Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God, yeah

There’s no shadow You won’t light up

Mountain You won’t climb up

Coming after me

There’s no wall You won’t kick down

Lie You won’t tear down

Coming after me

One night I was able to steal away to the prayer room at church. I got so caught up in my love for Jesus that my words just came spilling out in a passionate prayer.

“Jesus, you are everything – all we want. You are the goal, the prize, the destination, the journey, and every step in the journey. You are everything!”

I felt a small twinge of guilt. I offered up a silent prayer, “Sorry Holy Spirit. Sorry Father. I didn’t mean to forget about you.”

Then I saw the Father smiling down on me with pleasure, just as any good father would do while witnessing his son and fiancé being clearly head over heels in love with each other.

Photo by Joshua Rodriguez on Unsplash

“You have chosen well, my son,” I heard him say.

I was shocked to hear this. I simply don’t see myself the way the Father does, the way Jesus does.

I am so thankful that He will never be satisfied until I do.

I am so thankful that He won’t let me go. That the fire in His eyes and the burning in His heart will never be diminished.

Jesus is the prince.

I am HIS PRIZE.

YOU ARE HIS PRIZE.

He will never give up us.

If you have never encountered this love or long to encounter it more, listen to “Reckless Love” and ask Him to reveal himself to you. This is a prayer that he has suffered, died, and now lives to answer.

He wants his love to be known!

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We had just celebrated New Years. I was excited to say goodbye to 2018, a year of being pregnant and recovering from being pregnant. I had spent most of the year feeling my worst, but trying my best to be more active.

And here I was, bright and early on the second day of 2019, starting out on a road trip to Parris Island, South Carolina. Amazing!

“This is going to be a great year!” I thought to myself as I watched the scenery go by, as we crossed the border of Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, and then South Carolina. I was happy as the temperatures got noticeably warmer. I remained optimistic even when the southern humidity turned my hair into a frizzy puff ball.

I was with Chris and our oldest daughter, Areli (19 years old) and our youngest daughter Aria (4 months old) driving down to attend the Marine Graduation of our firstborn son, Cole. We were also traveling with Cole’s girlfriend, Amy and her mom, Valarie. We were making good time even with nursing Aria every 3-4 hours. We were close to our rental home, but we had to stop for supper. We found a local diner with southern comfort food. No bright and fresh vegetables, but plenty of the fried variety. It felt almost too stereotypical to be true: the friendly waitress with the charming southern drawl giving directions to the toothless gentleman, “Turn at the big tree, past the single-wide, to the double-wide where my mama lives.”

The next morning we awoke early, but we could hardly sleep anyway. It was the day that we would see our Marine for the first time in three months. I had to rise at 4:30 to get myself ready and feed the baby. Even though we got on the base at 6:30, we realized that we were a bit late, and the parking lot was almost full. We hurried out to try and find a good spot along the street. At 7:00am the Motivational Run would start, and we wanted to catch a glimpse of Cole as he ran past.

We could see the famous sign over the Blvd de France that said, “WE MAKE MARINES” and our excitement mounted! Soon we heard something but couldn’t see anything. Was it recruits doing PT? Or was it our Marines getting closer? First to come marching down the street was a small band that Areli nicknamed, “The Side Band.” A lively and talented group of brass musician and drummers danced and marched and interacted with the crowd.

I learned later that they were all master musicians who joined the Marines just to be in their band. Soon we heard a military cadence being called out by hundreds of young Marines.

We could hardly contain our excitement at this point. Camera and phones were out. We watched the guidons carefully. First the lead platoons would pass…1000…1001…

There was 1002! Cole’s Platoon. I strained my eyes. Then in the middle of all the green and shaved heads…I think….I see…

“There’s Cole! Cole!!!! Yeah!!!! I see him!” I yelled like a crazy person. I saw Cole’s head perk up ever so slightly and in his eyes was a look of recognition. He was not allowed to break formation in any way, but he had seen us!

The others couldn’t spot him, so we waited until they all ran past again. This time everyone could see him, strong and proud, running like it was no big deal. When “The Side Band” passed us again we realized something. We didn’t know where to go or what to do next. By the time we followed the crowds of people who were congregating across the street, we were at the back of the line. We found out that it was the line to get into the All-Weather Training Facility were the Liberty Ceremony would be held…in two hours!

waiting in line

The security was very strict so it took a long time to get into the building. We couldn’t all find seats. Areli, Amy, and I squeezed into the tight bleachers. Chris just stood in the back with the baby. I had to exit to use the restrooms (which we soon realized, were not one of the top priorities of the Parris Island hospitality committee). When I returned, the doors were being closed because all the seats were full, still an hour before the ceremony.

I knew that Family Day and was a big deal, but I didn’t realize how BIG it was!

Family and friends had traveled to be here. Whether alone or in groups of up to 30, they came from all over the world to see their beloved receive one of the highest honors; the title of United States Marine.

Time ticked on as we watched Marine promotional videos. Finally a Marine in charge told Chris he could take Aria and sit in the front row, in a handicap spot that hadn’t been filled. I joined him. It was amazing that God worked that out for us! Next to us was sitting the wife and three young children of one of Cole’s DIs. Again, I was amazed. DIs have wives? They have adorable little children?! I prayed that Aria would be a good little baby and not go into one of her crying fits during the ceremony.

Right on time one of the large doors was opened. A single Marine sang out a Cadence as the DIs and Platoons marched in perfect formation. Platoon 1002 stopped right in front of us, but I couldn’t see Cole.

The talking seemed to last forever. Finally Liberty was announced and the room erupted into chaos. It took a while for Cole to find us. He looked so good, confident and strong. I hugged him and couldn’t speak for the lump in my throat.

We spent the next 4 hours and 45 minutes walking around the base, talking, asking questions, eating, shopping, and taking in the museum. There was so much we wanted to know and so little time. Cole seemed relaxed and happy to answer our questions.

He told us stories that made us laugh and stories that made us wonder in amazement.

He had made it through! He was still alive and still human, but now more mature, wiser. He could joke about his suffering and smile and greet other new Marines.

Marines are always early, so Cole made sure he was back at the Parade Deck well before Liberty was over. I nursed the baby in the van while the others watched the Graduation Practice. We spent the rest of our day relaxing at our rental home. We enjoyed the porch and the beautiful view. South Carolina really is lovely, if you don’t mind all the frizzy hair.

We decided that we absolutely HAD to get on the base earlier for Graduation Day. When Aria woke me up at 3:30 am the next morning, there was no point in going back to sleep. But it was worth it! We got on the base by 5:30 and Areli and Amy began to wait in line. The rest of us waited in the van with the sleeping baby. After a while Valarie and Chris got out to wait in line as well. At 7:30 they were finally opening the security check points and allowing people into the bleachers. Still, the ceremony didn’t start until 9, so I thought I would let the baby sleep. I nursed her in the van around 8 and Chris called me saying, “Get in here as soon as you can. We are trying to save you a seat but they keep telling us to move closer together to make more room. It is filling up fast.”

I grabbed the diaper bag, my purse, and the baby and walked to the closest metal detector. By this time the line was very short, and Aria and I got to our seats in no time. Wow, there were a lot of people! And packed in so close together, you felt like you were sitting in your neighbor’s lap. It was a friendly crowd, and I began to talk with the ladies in front of me. One had come from New York to see her nephew graduate. Another had come with 20 other family members from Georgia to see her grandson. We talked about boot camp, our hopes and our fears, and the goodness of God. Tears were coming already and the ceremony hadn’t even started yet! The overflow bleachers were filling up and people who didn’t get a seat were standing.

I looked out at the crowd and was struck by the amount of love it represented.

I thought about the mother originally from South Africa who traveled with her daughter and grandson. I remembered the woman in front of me in line explaining how she didn’t sleep a wink during the crucible. She had stayed up with her candles lit, praying for her great-grandson. I recalled the sweet young girlfriend from Michigan, alive with giddy excitement at the Liberty Ceremony. Brothers and sisters holding banners at the Motto Run, women running and embracing their Marines at Liberty, and family members decked out in matching shirts filled my mind. Now I was surveying the thousands lining the Parade Deck who had taken time off of work and gladly paid the expense to be here. What love!

I was so glad that I was here!

Part of the thousands,

part of the love,

part of this little piece of Parris Island history,

part of this huge piece of MY SON’S history.

The ceremony was very impressive, full of military marching and orders. (I don’t have a military background so please forgive my rudimentary and perhaps inaccurate descriptions.) First came the “Main Band” we called it, not to be confused with the “Side Band.” To watch them march with their instruments was rather like watching close order drills done with slide trombones rather than rifles. There was the parade master, a woman with an incredible voice that could be heard from one end of the Parade Deck to the other. There were many commanding officers and two generals. The mascot of the Marines, a cute bulldog, made an appearance. When the platoons came marching in, their skill was amazing! We caught a glimpse of Cole!

There were orders called out, awards given, accolades received, and cannons fired! I had two favorite moments of the ceremony.

First was when I watched my son’s platoon all take a stance in perfect unison, bringing their heels together with one thunderous clap. Second was when a commanding officer said, “Good Morning!” and over 600 Marines answered him with one voice that seemed to shake the earth.

Finally each platoon was given the order to go on leave and Cole was free! Free for 10 days! We gave hugs and congratulations. We took pictures. We were bursting with pride!

We met some of Cole’s friends. We picked up the last of his bags and saw his squad bay. Cole was anxious to get off of the base and start his leave. We all had so much to talk about, so many things to do with him, and so many favorite foods to prepare! But for the moment, we seemed a bit dazed. It felt like a dream; the culmination of over a year of praying, preparing, and training.

Our son had truly earned the title:

United States Marine!

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My oldest son, Cole, is in Marine boot camp right now. Actually he is in the middle of the Crucible, and my mind is going crazy. I am trying to remember him in prayer at all hours of the day and night without letting my thoughts lead to worry…

and the worry lead to impatience…

and the impatience lead to “what ifs”…

and the “what ifs” lead to panic.

I thought back to October of last year when he first told me that he wanted to join the Marines. He didn’t talk about the benefits or the pay. He said he wanted the brotherhood, the character development, the challenge. At first I wasn’t sure I wanted my son in the military, so I asked God about it. He gave me peace and the impression that this would be the very best thing for Cole. Pretty soon I was feeling that joining the Marines would be the most important step for him to take after High School. I had been praying for a long time that Cole would find a positive focus for all of his teenage energy. Finally he had found it!

As a mom, I can worry about absolutely anything! So my son had made the very wise choice to pursue a career in the Marines. But what if his enthusiasm waned? What if he got in trouble and became disqualified? Boot camp was a year away. What if he didn’t make it there?!

On October 28, 2017 the worries were getting the better of me. It was the Saturday morning of his very first Marine work-out. One of the stipulations of the delayed entry program was that Cole had go to the recruiting office once a week to prepare physically and mentally. A recruiter was going to pick him up early that morning to take him to the work-out. I had to leave even earlier to make a trip to the farm. There was dew on all the blades of grass and all the colorful leaves. The sunlight peaking over the horizon was like white gold glittering on every water droplet.

I wanted to enjoy the beautiful drive and the peaceful time alone…but I was feeling guilty and worried. Cole was NOT a morning person. What if he didn’t get up in time for the workout? I should have stayed at home to make sure that he did! What if he wasn’t serious about this Marine thing? What if all God’s plans for his future got derailed?

A song on the radio washed over my mind with the power of the Holy Spirit.

“Death could not hold you, the veil tore before you.

You silenced the boast of sin and grave.

The heavens are roaring, the praise of your glory.

Yours is the name above all names.”

The worries were replace by a picture of Jesus on the cross, conquering death and sin, then rising again victorious, becoming the Savior of the world. I saw the Good Father allowing His beloved son to come into this world that did not love or receive Him. All of hell was working against Jesus and much of the earth and mankind as well. A million different things could have gone wrong. Countless roadblocks stood in the path for Jesus to become all He was destined to be, to accomplish all He was meant to accomplish.

Yet the Good Father was able to keep Jesus and guide Him perfectly. He could do the same with my children.

“You mean I really don’t have to feel responsible for making sure my children achieve their purpose here on the earth? That I could really just trust you to do it?” I asked God, trying to let go of years of ingrained thought patterns that always led to worry.

“You know that you never could, no matter how hard you tried. That is why you worry. That burden is not for you to carry. Just trust me,” came the whispered answer.

When I arrived back home, Cole had already left for his workout. I didn’t need to worry!

Cole and I a year ago after he swore in to the Marine delayed entry program.

Now he is almost done with boot camp, just hours away from becoming a Marine. I didn’t need to worry. But I still did. About EVERY little thing over the past year. I decided that I had to remind myself of all God had spoken to me.

When I went back and read my journal entry for October 28, 2017, this is what I had written.

“You are the Good Father who puts his children in this world and then brings them through the crucible victorious.”

I had written that before I knew anything about the Marines. Long before I understood that they had the toughest and longest boot camp out there. Before I had any idea that the culminating event of Marine boot camp was called The Crucible; 54 hours packed with missions to accomplish, obstacles to overcome, 45 miles to be hiked, and very little sleep or food to be had.

I had been prophesying and I didn’t even know it!

So as I am imagining every possible thing that could go wrong with Cole out there in the rain and the cold and dark of The Crucible, I chose to remember;

I can trust the Good Father with Cole and his destiny.

God will bring him through The Crucible Victorious!

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Having six boys, we have quite a culture of testosterone in our home. Wrestle first, ask questions later. As my older boys grow into men, I hope that they will be a good influence on the younger ones. Teach them to respect their mom, stand up for their brothers, and protect their sisters…stuff like that!

However I have noticed a different type of influence that is not always good. The oldest boy would relentlessly pick on the second to youngest one. I would explain to the Oldest that I understand that the Second Youngest can be very annoying at times, BUT the truth of the matter is, “You were very much like him at his age. You looked very similar and had very similar behaviors. Your Dad and I didn’t call you mean names or criticize you did we?” I ask.

“No,” the Oldest answers.

“So give him the same courtesy,” I say.

My logical explanation seems to have little effect on his behavior as the bullying continues. I begin to notice that the Third and Fourth Oldest are learning the fine art of bullying. I am distressed.

Other behaviors trickle down the line such as writing on clothing or sneaking candy and stashing the empty wrappers behind the washing machine. A love for fishing, violent video games, and BB guns flourish. When the Oldest joins the delayed entry program of the Marines, the other boys pick a branch of the military that they will join someday. Even the Youngest is being encouraged to follow his dream of being a paratrooper.

“I don’t want ALL my sons to be in the military,” I yell out. What is a mother to do?

As the Oldest spends more and more time with his Marine recruiters, training physically and mentally for boot camp, I notice a change in him. He is maturing. He is becoming more honorable and more truthful. He is becoming more respectful…most of the time.

Dental Health has never been very important to the Oldest Brother. Dental Health is very important to me. I used to brush each child’s teeth after each meal. As they get older, they must brush their teeth themselves of course, but I still remind them quite often.

“Have you brushed your teeth?” I call out to the Second Youngest who is rushing out the door for school.

“Yeah, Yeah,” he answers.

I suspect that he didn’t. I suspect that he hasn’t brushed at all in the past week. I need to pry open his mouth and check for myself but there he goes…halfway to school already.

One day I witnessed firsthand the power of the influence of the Oldest Brother. We were all sitting at the dining room table eating a meal. When we are done I try again to preserve the teeth of my children.

“Everyone, brush your teeth!” I call out.

No effect. No indication that anyone has heard me speak.

Then a new voice declares, “You should really brush your teeth, you know.”

It is the knowable voice of the Oldest Brother.

“I didn’t used to brush my teeth at all,” he continues, “but then I saw this picture of what happens to your tongue when you never brush. I almost puked right there! The back of the tongue was growing mold, fuzzy mold!”

“Really?” the younger brothers are very interested, “Show us! Show us!” they beg.

He whips out his phone, finds the picture and shows them all.

The younger boys do not walk, they RUN to the bathroom to brush their teeth. In all my years of mothering, I don’t think I have ever elicited such immediate and wholehearted compliance to one of my instructions.

The cool Oldest Brother has a power that even he doesn’t totally understand. May it always be a force for good! Now that the Oldest Brother is in boot camp, may the core values of the Marines be the driving force behind his awesome power of influence.